I put my flag out this morning for Memorial Day. When I was a kid, this was the weekend that meant camping, s'mores, fishing with my Dad, school soon to be just a bad memory, Summer beckoning like a Siren, her song filled with heat and hot dogs, skinned knees, sno-cones, picnics and BBQs, Mom's potato salad, reading a book while swaying in Dad's old canvas hammock, laying in the cool grass late at night waiting for shooting stars.
I'd love to have that sense of joyful anticipation sweep over me again, though I'm probably too jaded these days to really feel that excited flutter in the belly, realizing there are long days ahead, stretching into the endless future--Fall, too far away to imagine in the freedom of the moment.
As I turned from placing the flag, I noticed the wind had broken off one of my Iris stems. I brought it inside and put it in a olive oil bottle that I'd saved because I loved the shape. I have a beautiful collection of vases: vintage, modern, eclectic, rustic and primitive, and yet, the long, elegant stem of the flower just seemed to fit perfectly in this recycled container.
Zen in a bottle.
I was getting my stuff together to take the boys on their walk, when I thought I saw movement out the front as...something...walked up the road. I went to one of the windows, and sure enough, there was a large bird strolling along the verge. I grabbed my camera, mainly for the telephoto, so I could get a closer look.
Pretty sure it's a female wild turkey. There's a big population that live in these mountains, though I haven't seen any of them since last year. Why she would be wandering around by herself, easy prey with no back-up, I don't know. I took this shot, then watched her just meander up the road like she didn't have a care in the world.
Decided to walk a different area of the park today. I miss being able to go out the Valley to the County Park, so for a change of scenery, we parked across the river, away from our usual place. Wandering along the river bank, in the quiet, the dogs exploring new territory, I spied this lovely, wild Bearded Iris growing close to the water's edge. This particular color reminds me of old grandmothers and small town America, and "the good ol' days" (whatever those were). It's an old, old variety, though I don't know the name. Somehow it found a home along a river, blooming alone in its beauty.
Back from the morning adventures, I wandered out back to check on my soggy veggies. We've had so much rain in the past week, it's a wonder my raised bed boxes haven't ended up sliding down the mountain. I'm standing on the deck, coffee cup in one hand, camera in the other, when this bright spark of red flits by. I slowly turned, stayed very still, waiting. And bouncing around my flowering cherry tree came this handsome guy. I got several shots, though half were totally blurred from his amazingly rapid woodpecker taps. Seriously, this guy was a machine.
Later, checking my emails, I received one from a family in Germany, part of the Postcrossing deal I'm having such a great time with. I had taken a photo of a chipmunk at Crater Lake National Park last year, the cutest wee thing, who came right up and seemed to pose for me. I made the photo into a postcard and sent it to these two little children. They got the card, and loved the chipmunk so much, they have it in their living room where they can see it every day. That really made me smile. Here he is...
The moments in a day. So interesting the things we feel, and see, in the course of a few hours. It's truly a wonder...